


Not-Kenny

by spirograph



Category: South Park
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-20
Updated: 2005-11-20
Packaged: 2017-10-31 11:53:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/343758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spirograph/pseuds/spirograph





	Not-Kenny

Butters has taken to wearing Kenny's old orange parka. It's nearly threadbare in places, orange fibers dangling where the stitches have come undone, the faint odor of dried blood lingering beneath the fresh fragrance of lavender washing powder. He's trying with all his might to be something he's not and most of his new friends call him Not-Kenny - they like it when he doesn't talk.

Weak morning sunlight rains down over South Park's sleet covered streets and golden rays creep into every nook and cranny trying to flush the cold shadows of Winter away. Melted ice flows through the leaf clogged gutters and Kyle pushes the toe of his boot forward into the current, watching as the tiny torrent bends and ripples around it. Tomorrow, the rain clouds will gather over the town and the gutters will be frozen again.

Butters tries to assume what Kenny would do in situations like this. He imagines slipping, falling; he imagines lying broken and bleeding with dirty gutter water washing blood from his hair and chestnut coloured leaves clinging to his pale, fractured body. He looks sideways at Kyle - whose eyes ignite with hope whenever he glances tangerine material - and he's told that he suits Kenny's jacket.

Butters gets nervous, stutters when he speaks: his statements lack profanity and receive no response. He dreams about freedom: he imagines when he goes to sleep that he can escape a world where he's just a disappointing replacement for someone who was actually loved.

Kyle's scared he'll get hurt when he leaves the house now that Kenny's gone; he panics when he tastes the familiar tang of copper on his wind chapped lips. He fantasises about the ocean: he imagines when he shuts his eyes that can escape storm clouds reflecting scarlet sunsets, railway tracks that he knows he can't follow past the borders of his Middle of Nowhere town. He gets dizzy and daydreams crimson flood waters as he inhales the sweet-rancid scent of Kenny when Butters leans too close.

Sometimes they like to pretend. Butters lays still in the center of Kyle's bed, clenching his fists, and tells himself that he's wanted. Kyle nuzzles his head against Butters hip and breathes deeply the smell of death which has attached itself permanently to the other boys skin, whimpering Kenny's name. Fingers wrap around his wrists and Butters begins to think it wouldn't hurt if he swore a little more; Kyle smiles when garbled obscenities emerge from such innocent lips.

Butters thinks he's beginning to like the sickly odor of decay, the way he's not expected to brush his blonde hair anymore, the frequency in which people mistake him for Kenny. He's losing his own identity and he doesn't think anyone really remembers his real name; he's trying with all his might to be something he's not and by the way Kyle smiles at him, talks to him, he thinks he could be succeeding.


End file.
